True North
by AmaryllisWhimsy
Summary: "I do appreciate it," she had said in her funny accent, a wooden sword like all the other lads owned clutched firmly in her fist. "But I'm fighting my own dragon at the moment, and I can't be bothered to be rescued." Even as a child, Belle was considered a bit odd by the other ladies at court. One-shot.


**Hey! I do not own the show or any of the characters. The writing is my own. Belle is one of my all time favorite characters…and for some reason this just made sense? I don't know. Hope you like it anyway.**

**OooOooO**

By the time Belle French was seven years old, she had already been branded as something of an odd duckling. The word eccentric was whispered around the court as if it were poison, like speaking it aloud would bring it's plague upon the user. Voices heavy with pity would murmur one to another _"Poor Sir Maurice. It would maybe be more tolerable if the child had come out normal. But…to have the wife become so sickly over such a strange creature…"_

There was no question that the child was beautiful. That, at the very least, could be agreed upon. Dark chestnut hair, a pale complexion, eyes that shown out like sapphire stars on the darkest night. Lovely. If only the hair wasn't sun kissed and unkempt from too many days spent out of doors, fresh air filling her lungs. If only she didn't lock herself up in her father's library, eyes glued to pages that filled her head with…well who knew? Probably thoughts that weren't appropriate for a girl of her station. If only she didn't talk to flowers in the garden, and even worse, the weeds as well which she insisted had a beauty of its own. True, her features were unmistakably flawless. Also true, her mind was addled beyond repair.

"You should have heard that child," the Duchess of Cair Belva had hissed, eyes practically glowing. "The children were all playing 'Knights and Ladies' as children will do - the girls getting kidnapped and boys rescuing them. At least, that's the normal way. That little imp had the audacity to insist that she was waiting for no knight, and that she was going to carve her own rescue plan." Murmurs of shock filled the sitting parlor as the other ladies heard this. The girl would never make a suitable match for any of their sons. She could hardly be considered a suitable match for anyone.

Of course, little did one particular Lady know that her son was already wholly smitten. Well. In a way that only he could be. With dark hair, tanned skin and an easy smile, Gaston Lereoux was already shaping up to be a dashing young man. The sort of young man who believed in conquering evil, who believed in using his sword before his head, and above all else rescuing fair maiden. Even if fair maiden didn't want to be rescued.

"I do appreciate it," she had said in her funny accent, a wooden sword like all the other lads owned clutched firmly in her fist. "But I'm fighting my own dragon at the moment, and I can't be bothered to be rescued."

This had baffled and terrified him, and for some reason, he liked it. It would mark the beginning of his childlike infatuation which would continue to flourish for the rest of his life.

When Belle's mother took a turn for the worse, she called Belle to her bedside. Belle would always remember the way the sun had shone cheerfully through the window, illuminating the room and her mother's form. She would always remember the way it smelled like mint and flowers, and how everything had seemed so calm and serene even though it felt like her whole life was falling to pieces.

"I want to give you something," Her mother had said between hacking up blood into her handkerchief. She reached over to the nightstand by her bed, opening the top drawer and pulling out a lovely silver compass. It was old - very old - and hung daintily from a silver chain.

"I want you to have this. Every time you look at it I want you to remember who you are. I want you to be happy, Belle. Not just content. I want you to stay true to yourself. Maybe this compass will help point the way."

It was one of the most precious things anyone had ever given her.

OooOooO

When Belle was eighteen she became betrothed to Gaston Lereoux. Handsome. Tall. Fit. Chivalrous, even. All the things a girl ought to look for in a man, and not just a man, a husband. He wasn't even unkind or uncaring, which she knew she should be grateful for. And she was. She simply told herself that the reason she was crying up in her room was because it had come as a surprise, and so suddenly. That was all. After all, Father had arranged it. Father always looked out for her, so surely this was the right thing to do.

Right?

Belle only wanted the right thing. It just seemed like the right thing wasn't always so easily defined.

"Our life together will be wonderful. I promise," Gaston was saying, as they sat on the bench in the garden. They were supposed to be talking and getting to know each other better before their wedding. Belle tried her best to look enthusiastic.

"You'll make such a beautiful bride, too," Gaston continued, eyes bright as the sun while he contemplated what the future would hold for them. "And you'll bare me such lovely children. Between the two of us there could hardly be an ugly one among them." He laughed, although Belle didn't see what was so amusing. Rather, she tried her best not to grind her teeth.

"It'll be just lovely. We'll live in a castle near Lakelamn, and watch the sun come up every morning. You'll kiss me and tell me you love me and then I'll go off to - oh, a war if there is one, or maybe just hunt if there isn't - and you'll let the nanny take care of the kids while you weave at a loom, or whatever it is you ladies do. I must say, Belle, you are so different from the little girl I remember. But still such a beauty."

Belle didn't tell him what she was thinking. She didn't tell him that she didn't want to kiss him and tell him she loved him at that horribly picturesque castle where the sun came up over a flat, dead lake. She didn't tell him that she didn't want to hand off her children to a nanny who made them into cold, formal, foreign little creatures who barely knew her name. She didn't tell him that he could shove his plans and go find himself some other girl, because she was going to have her own adventures and see the world. Even though, desperately, she wanted to voice these things very badly.

Honestly, when the Beast came, it was hardly a wonder that she chose his bondage to the alternative.

OooOooO

After she left with the Dark One, Belle French faded into obscurity. No one really knew what happened to her. They could only be left to assume that she had, in fact, lived out her days serving that horrible creature's whims and wills, and even though she had been odd, most agreed that it was a fate too terrible and cruel.

Not to mention poor Gaston, who had so boldly went to fetch her home and never returned either. What happened to him also remained a mystery. The whole thing was a tragedy, a terrible thing, and it caused a shudder to ripple through every mother who pondered what it would be like if it had been their child.

When Belle left, she never got a chance to take her compass with her. But despite this it always pointed north, always pointing home. And she decided long ago that where her heart pointed, she would follow.

Even if it cost her everything.

OooOooO

**Please leave a review. I truly do love, and appreciate feedback. It's the only way to help me get better!**


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